My Sunshine
by Rudale
Summary: WW2 AU: "Sometimes, the damage war can do lasts forever. Not only in the environment- but also in our hearts." (Short USUK drabble fic. Please R&R!)


**My Sunshine.**

**A/N: Alright, I originally wasn't going to post this here – or post **_**anything**_ **else** **here, for that matter. But my dweeb friend kept nagging at me to post this somewhere, so… Yup, here I am. -Also, this was originally a school project that I ditched (I accidentally made it a USUK fanfic, whoopsie), so you may see a few stupid quirks since we had a lot of stupid rules to follow and I don't even feel like patching it up any further than this. So if you see any inaccuracies, do tell me about it immediately.**

_**However, before you read, I have a request for you, dear reader:**_

**I'm considering doing a one-shot/drabble/etc. series thing for Hetalia, where basically ****you, the reader,** **get to decide what pairing I should write for in a certain chapter/one-shot/drabble (doesn't have to be romantic), and if you'd like; plot, background, etc and I'll try my best to live up to whatever expectations you may/may not have. _-_****_If anyone likes this idea, then please do mention it/tell me somehow.  
><em>**

**There might be a chance that I'll actually end up turning one of your requests into a series if I really like the idea. So… Yeah. Yay or nay? Do tell me.  
>Um… yup. I think that's it.<strong>

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><p><strong>Disclaimer: I do not own Hetalia. All rights go to their respected owners.<strong>

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><p>"<em><strong>You are my sunshine, my only sunshine,"<strong>_

"Bloody Christ, Alfred, would you stop singing that damned song all the time?"

"Aw, but Artie~! I thought you liked it!"

"Not when it's you singing it. -And also, would you stop calling me 'Artie' all the damn time?"

It had been a completely normal day for the young boys. Arthur was sitting on the couch, reading his book by himself while Alfred was sitting to his left, trying to get at least _some_ attention from the slightly grumpy brit beside him. It was fairly peaceful for both of them; neither of them had anything to do, and the room they were sitting in was completely empty. It would've been a perfect environment for Arthur to finally finish his book… If it wasn't for the nuisance beside him.

Alfred pouted at the boy's response, seemingly disappointed at the lack of response from his counterpart.

"You're no fun, _Artie~_"

"Oh, I can be plenty of fun, _Alice. _Just not around the likes of you."

"Aw, I'm _hurt_, Artie."

The boy pouted childishly, faking sadness at Arthur's words. The brit rolled his eyes, muttering "git" to the energetic boy beside him under his breath before resuming his reading.

A long silence followed - much to Alfred's dismay. He stared at the boy beside him, pondering on all the ways to get the damn boy to at least _smile _for once_._ He sat there for a while, thinking _'Ever since this damn war started, he hasn't even laughed… What if-' _He immediately stopped his train of thought, not allowing himself to finish the thought. _'No, Arthur's stronger than that. He's probably just being stubborn – as usual, but... Wait, isn't he-' _The boy immediately looked up, having an idea sparked in his mind.

"Hey, Artie~"

"For the love of god, would you _shut _up- _o-oh god, Alfred!"_

He was immediately interrupted mid-sentence by Alfred, who had tackled him to the floor and placed his hands at the shorter boy's sides, tickling him mercilessly at whatever weak spots he could find. Laughter immediately filled the room, making Alfred grin triumphantly.

'_**You make me happy when skies are grey.'**_

The boys lay there for a while, both of them laughing cheerfully as the poor boy underneath Alfred struggled in his grasp, trying his hardest to _somehow_ get his revenge.

"Do you give up~?"

"I-I'd never give up to you, you wanker!"

Still struggling for air (and the freedom to move his limbs around), the shorter boy had somehow managed to squeeze words in between fits of laughter… Well, _barely._

"You sure~?"

The only response Alfred got was hysterical laughter, the boy underneath him seemingly at his limit until he heard a loud knocking on a door down the hall followed by a yell from a high-pitched, loud voice.

"Would you two _stop_ making out? You're making too much noise, and I'm busy!"

Both boys sat up immediately, both of their faces slightly pink from the comment. Well, maybe a certain bushy-browed boy more red rather than pink.

"For god's sake, Peter, would you mind your _goddamn_ manners? We're _not_-"

"Sure thing, Petey!"

Shortly after, they heard footsteps from the room slowly getting quieter as the boy retreated to his room to resume what he was apparently "busy" with previously. As soon as the footsteps had faded away completely, Alfred immediately felt his body fall backwards as he was tackled by the boy beside him, struggling under his grasp as he felt what Arthur would most likely call "sweet, sweet vengeance."

"O-oh god, Artie! That's not fair!"

"Serves you right!"

However, being the weaker one of the two, it didn't take long before Arthur was finally overpowered, getting pinned underneath the much stronger, and much heavier boy.

"Do you surrender?"

"N-never!"

Alfred immediately let his hands fly down to Arthur's sides again, ghosting over them threateningly.

"_Really~?_"

"... J-just get off of me already."

Alfred grinned, satisfied at his victory. He stood up and reached out for Arthur, helping him on his feet when he grabbed his hand. He reached out to brush off Arthur's shoulders, resulting in getting his hand slapped away immediately by the blushing brit.

"D-don't touch me, you git."

Despite the comment, Alfred grinned widely, staring at Arthur as he was trying to hide his flushed – _slightly _smiling face… With little to no success.

"What are you staring at?"

"You're smiling."

Arthur blinked for a moment, slightly shocked from the comment. He hadn't noticed it himself; but suddenly noticing the corners of his lips lifting upwards – he knew it was true. He looked into the taller boy's eyes, smiling _slightly_ wider. –He'd never admit that, though.

"Thank you… I-I guess, y-you git."

Alfred grinned widely at his response, nearly tripping when he leapt out to squeeze Arthur in his arms, setting the poor boy's face ablaze with a dark blush.

'_**You'll never know dear-'**_

"Aw, I'm so glad Artie~! You should keep smiling~!"

"I-I hate you."

"Love you too-"

He was immediately interrupted as they heard a noise that made both of them look towards the windows, expressions beyond horrified as they parted immediately.

_Boom._

"W-what on earth happened?"

Both boys rushed over to the windows, gaping at the scene before them.

"Why didn't the alarms go off?"

"I-I don't-"

Before he finished his sentence, he was immediately dragged away by Alfred.

"Come on, we need to-"

"W-wait, don't forget Peter-"

"Right, right, sorry."

The two burst into the room where the young boy was standing, Arthur immediately rushing over to grab his younger brother's hand before storming outside along with Alfred, all of them squeezing in between the panicked crowd as they could hear a faint buzzing from what was assumed to be Luftwaffe making their way towards their target.

"D-do you remember where the nearest shelter is?"

"Yeah, of course! Just don't get lost, alright? Here,"

Before the shorter boy could protest, Alfred had already grabbed his hand and started making his way towards the nearest bomb shelter, squeezing them between all the panic to make their way towards their destination.

When they finally made their way to their set destination, another loud explosion had already resonated through the town, and barely seconds after that, the sounds of the planes got louder and more clear by the second.

"How many?"

"Three. One child, and two-"

"Sorry, but we only have room for two more. One of you will have to find somewhere else to hide."

As soon as the sentence was finished, Arthur could almost feel a vein pop as his heart began pounding with both fear and anger. '_How on earth-_'

"Are you _kidding?_ What _bloody_ difference does one more person make? Do you-"

"Sir, I need you to calm down-"

"How the _fuck _am I supposed to calm down when you're pretty much saying one of us has to go out and _die_ just because your god-forsaken rules- do you have _any_ idea what-"

"_Arthur_."

The unusually sharp tone from the taller boy made Arthur flinch, looking Alfred in the eye hesitatingly.

"Arthur, just calm down. I'll let you and Peter-"

"_No. _I-I will not let you get your stupid face kicked in just because of some goddamn rules. I'm sure we-"

Before he could finish his rant, Alfred had already ruffled his hair with a light, apologizing grin before storming off, rushing between countless panicked citizens to find another shelter.

"ALFRED, YOU DUMBASS-"

He didn't get to finish his sentence. It was too late anyway; the boy had already gone beyond hearing range. Slowly, he felt tears forming in the corner of his eyes before he immediately reached up to wipe them off. _'No, I won't stand here and do nothing – I-I'll have to-'_

_Boom._

Before another second could pass by after that, he'd squeezed Peter's hand even tighter before rushing inside as quickly as possible.

Once inside, he immediately knelt down in front of Peter to meet his eyes, gripping his shoulders tightly.

"Are you alright? Did you get hurt on the way? Are you-"

"Arthur, are _you _okay?"

The unusually worried and caring tone from his younger brother shocked him slightly, sending him in a daze for a moment before replying,

"Y-yeah. I'm fine, thanks."

'_The kid's damn sharp.´ _he thought to himself. However, he still didn't let his emotions show. He knew the boy was probably just as scared as he was, knowing fully well that the shelter could potentially break down, that this could potentially be his last day, despite the chances being relatively low (hopefully) - and all he could do at that moment for the child was _at least _keep a cool head and try to calm him down.

He sat there on his knees for a while, subconsciously rubbing the younger boy's shoulders while his thoughts were rushing in a panic as the noise from the plane and bombs outside got louder with every second to the point where it almost felt like he could almost _feel_ the wind swirling around him, _see_ countless buildings collapse, _hear_ Alfred's last cry as he-

'_No,´_ he thought, not allowing himself to finish his train of thought – he knew it would just make matters worse. He knew that Alfred was running a risk – that he could potentially lose Alfred, that his last words could've potentially been-

Without noticing, his shoulders had already started trembling as his thoughts were cut off.

'_**-how much I love you,'**_

"Arthur? A-Arthur, are you sure you're…"

"Huh? Er, yeah. Just… Just a bit tired, that's all."

It was an obvious lie, and the younger boy didn't look convinced in the least, but he shrugged it off nevertheless. He tentatively reached out, patting Arthur's shoulder as if to comfort him. The two boys sat in silence, listening to the panicked cries around them and the sound of pure chaos and destruction outside. However, despite all the countless lives being at risk, there was only one thing he had in mind-

'_Please be alright, Alfred.'_

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><p>"Goddamn it..."<p>

Just standing there- no, just breathing had been difficult at that point. He couldn't even look at it- it had been too heart-wrenching to even think about it.

'_Rest in Peace – Alfred F. Jones._

_19xx – 1941._

_Eternally missed.'_

Just looking at the text once more - even if he didn't actually read it -, would feel like going through hell (another time). Just knowing the raw, hurtful truth behind the words would make his breath catch in his throat, almost suffocating him. _I… I'll be all alone without him, I- what am I supposed to do, I, he was- he was the one I-_He didn't dare finish the thought. He knew it fully well anyway – there was no point in making it worse by letting his thoughts wander into it. There was no point in reminding himself what was already too late to say. There was no point in just- '_There's just no point in anything anymore at this point, huh?'_

Just a week ago, he would've called himself stupid, dramatic, cliché and over-exaggerating for thinking like that. -And just a week earlier, he would've also been curled up in the couch, sitting beside the obnoxious, loud, _wonderful, kind _American, who couldn't even breathe or smile anymore the way he used to, _laugh_ the way he used to. Even in times of war, the stupid, _cheerful, energetic_ boy couldn't even – no, _wouldn't_ even cry. He had always believed in one thing right from the start;

"_Well, after this war is over, we'll be able to live in peace and happiness, right? Isn't that enough to look forward to?"_

_Arthur raised his brows, about to speak up before being shushed by the boy beside him._

"_I know, I know. You're going to lash out at me and tell me that there's nothing to look forward to when everyone's dying every day, when everyone is basically closer to their last day than ever, but… Just, cheer up Artie, alright? I'm sure that's what __**they**__ would've wanted, before, well…"_

The conversation hadn't lasted any longer, - although he truly wished it had. He wished that he could just turn back time, smack himself and say "You're right. I'm sorry," to the American. -But there wasn't any point in wishing for that, was there? _'Besides, it would be hypocritic of me to agree with him now while I'm standing here, about to break down and just… Cry, I guess would be the word.' _It sounded awfully cliché, but it was true. The only thing preventing him from crying was, well..

"_Just cheer up Artie, alright?"_

It was silly, how such a simple sentence that barely meant anything to him back then was the thing keeping him sane at that moment. –However, with each passing second, he began to doubt his ability to keep himself together more and more.

Kneeling down in front of the grave, he didn't realize that he'd begun humming quietly. He recognized the tune of the song immediately; it had been Alfred's favorite, the one he'd always sing to him when he was sad or tired or- well, whenever he could, really.

He sat down on his knees, still humming quietly until the last sentence came as he looked down at his hands.

"_**Please don't take my sunshine away."**_

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><p>"<em>Sometimes, the damage war can do lasts forever. Not only in the environment- but also in our hearts." –Unknown<em>


End file.
